Perdition, Purgatory, Poenitentia
by CountryGirl914
Summary: When the world goes to hell, Kurt decides to stick with the devil he knows.


**A/N:**I have literally had the idea for this story since last year, but life conspired against me. At least I got the first chapter out (barely) before season three.

Not a zombie fic; kind of an apocalypse fic, but not really? Friendship, romance? I really have no clue what genre to put this story in. The ones I chose are just my best guesses. You tell me. I just hope you enjoy. Like the summary said, this takes place sometime after last season's Christmas episode.

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><p>Chaos came on a typical Friday.<p>

Dalton had the day off while McKinley was still in session, so Kurt had decided to drive to McKinley and visit the Gleeks. He loved Dalton—could finally feel safe, breathe easy—but…texting Mercedes wasn't the same as gossiping with her in the hallways, and singing harmony wasn't the same as fighting Rachel for a solo.

He missed his friends—and McKinley—more than he'd thought he would.

He quickly pulled into the parking lot and found a spot, eager to see his best friend for the first time in days. He locked the vehicle and was just about to turn toward the building when—

Darkness.

Asphalt, hard and gritty against his back, was the first thing that penetrated his fuzzy brain when he regained consciousness some unknown time later. He dazedly watched a torn, crumpled piece of paper as it floated through his field of vision.

The sky was a clear, bright blue.

(Who knew chaos could be so calm.)

When his mind finally cleared, head no longer feeling like it had been disconnected from his body, he slowly got to his feet, wincing. His shoulder was a little sore, most likely from falling on it, but otherwise he felt fine. Lifting his head, he frowned. What in the world had—

He froze.

It looked like a bomb had gone off.

Hell, maybe a bomb _had_ gone off. In places the school building still stood, but spiderwebs of cracks and missing chunks told of devastating internal damage. In others, walls knocked off their foundations leaned precariously against brick and steel.

The rest was rubble.

Heart in his throat, he ran toward the destruction. "Mercedes!" he shouted frantically. "Finn! Rachel!" He made his way around the building, calling out and straining to hear any response, wide eyes searching for any signs of life. He'd circled back to the parking lot, about to lose hope, when—

_There_. A faint moan and shifting rubble had him on his knees, throwing aside bricks and mortar. His fingers stung, but he ignored them, because there was a hand, pushing at the section of steel beam blocking freedom. Kurt grabbed hold and threw his weight behind it, pulling while the other person pushed, until the metal gave way with a groan under their combined adrenaline-filled efforts.

He'd been so focused that he hadn't noticed the red cuff the hand was poking out of until the entire figure tumbled from the wreckage.

"No," Kurt said, numb.

Karofsky ignored him, more focused on coughing the dust out of his lungs.

"No," Kurt repeated. "Not you. Why couldn't it have been Mercedes, or Finn, or even Puck? Hell, I would have taken _Jacob_ over you."

"Harsh, Hummel," Karofsky breathed, coughing one last time as he pushed himself up from his hands and knees. "What are you even doing here, anyw—" He broke off, finally seeing what was left of McKinley. "_Fuck_. What the hell _happened_?"

"I don't know!" Kurt cried. "How the hell should I know? I was just coming to visit my friends, and then this." He turned in place, whirling around and taking in their surroundings. There was no rhyme or reason to the destruction—some buildings were untouched, while others had been completely destroyed.

"Azimio!" Karofsky called out, bringing Kurt's attention back to him. "Z!" He moved toward what was left of the building.

"Don't bother," Kurt said, ignoring the dark expression Karofsky shot his way. "It's no use. I spent the last half hour searching, and you're the only one I found." His friends. His _family_. He shoved down the despair clawing up his throat and instead turned to anger. It was so much easier and safer to be a bitch. "I'm stuck here with _you_."

Karofsky sneered. "_You're_ stuck with _me_? Puh-lease. I'd be the one dragging your dead weight around."

Kurt fumbled for his phone during the jock's diatribe, pulling it out of his bag and turning it on, desperately searching for a signal.

Nothing.

"Not like I'd stick with you anyway," Karofsky continued, and as Kurt scanned their surroundings once more, a flash of color caught his eye.

A woman in a royal blue coat was sitting at the bus stop across the parking lot.

"Well, luckily for both of us, it looks like we won't have to find out," Kurt said before starting to walk briskly across the parking lot. He didn't know who this woman was, but if this was the end of the world he'd take pretty much anyone over Karofsky. "Hello!" he called out, but the figure didn't move.

Karofsky was right behind him. "You really think people are going to take your fancy ass over me in a survival situation?"

Kurt scoffed. "Intelligent and clever or boorish and cruel? Yes, I'm sure it will be a difficult choice." He broke into a run, Karofsky at his heels with a "Hey!" of surprise.

Karofsky may have been the jock, but Kurt was small and quick, and he pulled ahead of the other boy as they neared the bus stop. "Hello!" Kurt called again. "Ma'am, are you oka—"

He stopped abruptly, barely noticing as Karofsky rammed into him from behind, hands on his upper arms for balance as he tried to keep both of them from toppling over. All his attention was focused on the woman on the bench, clothes free of rips and tears, hair perfectly styled, makeup unsmudged…

And cloudy eyes staring at them unseeingly.

"_Fuck_," Karofsky whispered harshly from behind him.

A soft breeze twisted around them, and suddenly the woman's body was disintegrating, clothes and all, blowing away like ash in the wind until there was nothing left on the bench in front of them.

Kurt choked on a strangled scream as he scrambled away from the scene, pressing back into Karofsky. The other boy's hold on Kurt's biceps turned bruisingly tight as he jerked them away from the bench, breathing heavily.

All around them, there was silence.

Kurt swallowed. Karofsky may have been a brute, but he was a familiar brute.

"We're taking my Navigator."

Karofsky didn't argue. "We're stopping at my place first. It's closer."

Kurt almost asked how the other boy knew where he lived, but of course—after all the pranks the cool kids had pulled on him, Karofsky could probably get to his place blindfolded. A few weeks and his knowledge would have been outdated; the day was fast approaching when he, his dad, Finn, and Carole were going to move into their new—

Kurt wasn't going to think about that.

Despite what Kurt had said earlier, they made their way back to what was left of McKinley, calling out names and digging through the rubble.

They stopped after the third pile of ash.

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><p>tbc<p> 


End file.
